


thousands of eyes just like mine

by i_was_human



Series: lit fic week 2020 [6]
Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Junsu is Mysterious, MAYHEM is Not a Team, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Smoking, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25868824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_was_human/pseuds/i_was_human
Summary: Jun's on the outside looking in - and that, he thinks, is the greatest tragedy of all.
Relationships: Ahn Jaewon | Wyld & Junsu
Series: lit fic week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882828
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	thousands of eyes just like mine

The first time Jun meets Jaewon, it's almost ten o'clock.

There's a look in his eyes - one Jun will later learn to call _beaten-down_ \- that he doesn't have a name for, and he doesn't look- wrapped up in the fact that this kid with a shitty dye job is making him stay after closing. Nari's as obsessive as ever, borderline-manic at the prospect of profit, but the kid - Jaewon, he later learns - gives him a piece of bread (from his own store - if he wanted one he could grab it from the cabinet) and tells him he hopes his day gets better. 

He's _strange_. He made them stay past closing, but gave Jun a croissant as a peace offering(?) and said he hopes his day improves.

Weird kid. 

The next time he sees the kid, he looks like he's about to cry, and Jun makes him sit down outside the café in hopes of addressing whatever's weighing on the kid - but, somehow, he deflects.

(jun didn't really want to talk about it - doesn't do well with conversations like this - and jaewon must've picked up on that, like a shark sensing blood in the water.)

The kid gives him a handful of bandaids and panics when Jun asks him why he colored his hair - which is a strange thing to panic over - and eventually spits out some nonsense about liking the color, and, really, Jun knows from experience that people can be blind with regards to hair color, but red doesn't suit him at _all_.

He tells the kid as much.

The kid laughs, waving one hand in hopes of dismissing the question, and Jun changes the topic, offering to walk him home ~~because home is the last place he wants to be~~ because the kid looks like he's going to get jumped if he stays out here, but he shakes his head. 

He tells Jun to go home instead.

( ~~the last time someone said that, jun walked away with two broken fingers and a black eye.)~~

(the last time someone said that, it was a teacher who found him holed up in a utility closet, a teacher irritated by having to do the same song and dance each and every day. 

it's funny, how much jun understands her now.)

"I don't have one," he bites, and the kid stares at him, shocked. 

The kid's too surprised by things like this, he thinks. Too surprised by little facts, too surprised by _reality_.

As he starts to leave, the kid calls after him, and Jun turns, curiosity piqued.

"Does this mean we're friends?"

"...no way. I don't even know who you are."

"I- I'm Jaewon!"

The kid's desperate, Jun realizes - desperate for any scrap of kindness. 

(he reminds jun of himself, a bit)

"Fine. We're friends."

Jaewon's smile after that is worth the inevitable awkwardness that's soon to follow.

* * *

_"He's an idol... and he has a pretty bad reputation."_

That night, Jun dives into the rumors surrounding his new friend, and finds things he never would've expected.

Wyld has a reputation as a womanizer, as a cruel, callous man, going through women like tissues and throwing them aside when he's done with them. 

And yet-

somehow, Jun doesn't believe it. 

People put on masks, he knows - and he likes to think he's gotten good at recognizing people's true colors.

On the streets, that's especially important. Knowing the difference between someone who's offering you a room out of kindness or as a lure could save your life, and it's a skill Jun had to hone pretty quickly. 

(not that he didn't have the practice. telling whether "come home" meant silence and fake family bonds or rage and dodging was something he had to learn fast.

quick leaning curve, as it was.)

"What do you think of Jaewon-ah?" he asks Nari, and his manager sighs, resting her chin on her hand.

"Isn't it amazing? Knowing an idol..."

"No. What do you _think of him_."

"Jaewon-ah? He's different from how he acts in front of the cameras. I mean, he has a really bad reputation..."

"You told me."

"What do you think of him?"

Jun stares at the counter, gaze landing on his reflection.

There's a fresh band-aid by his mouth - one of Jaewon's; he doesn't have the budget for band-aids - and he jerks his head up, stalking back towards the register. 

"He's my friend."

* * *

Weeks crawl by with no visit from Jaewon, and Jun starts to get worried.

Not that he'll tell anyone.

Whenever he's working, he finds his gaze straying to the door in hopes of catching sight of the redhead, and it's a little sad.

A lot sad. 

Even Nari catches on eventually, and all she has to say is "text him - you have his number, don't you?" and Jun decides not to point out that _no, he doesn't_.

Finally, after three weeks, Jaewon returns.

It's closing time again, and Jun's locking up when his gaze lands on a head of red hair trudging down the street. 

Jaewon.

"Yah, Jaewon-ah!"

Jaewon's head jerks up, and Jun frowns, folding his arm over his chest. "Where the hell did you go?"

Jaewon crosses the street - slow, hesitant - and when he comes to stand in front of Jun, there's a paper-thin smile on his lips. 

"I've been busy," he lamely replies, and Jun stares at him - at the dark shadows painting his eyes and his limp hair - and knows that's not the whole truth.

"What's wrong?"

"...am I holding you up again?"

"No," Jun simply replies, thumbing at the door. "We're closed, but I stopped you. I'm holding _you_ up."

Jaewon grins, stuffing his hands in his pocket - and it's so bright Jun can almost believe it's real. "I'm sorry I haven't been around lately," he states, and Jun stares at him, unsure of what to say. "I'm just really busy."

"...mhm."

They stare at each other for a moment, and Jaewon gasps, pulling his backpack off his back. "Oh! You're out of band-aids!"

"No."

"But- you have a cut on your chin-"

"That's normal."

"Why didn't you put a band-aid on it?" Jaewon frets, tilting Jun's chin up to get a better look at the scratch. "What happened?"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh," Jaewon flushes, taking a step back. "I just- do you need more band-aids?"

"No-"

"Take them!" 

Jaewon shoves a box of band-aids into Jun's arms, and he blinks, arms instinctively coming up to catch it. 

"...did you just throw a box at me?"

"A-Ah..."

There's a long moment where neither one moves.

"You should get going," Jun finally states, and Jaewon laughs, a bit high, a bit awkward.

"Yeah! Um, I'll see you soon, Jun-ah!"

* * *

That night, Jun curls up at a bus-stop and checks Twitter.

He searches up _Wyld_ , and the first things that come up are-

horrible.

 _#WyldISACFail_ is trending, and the internet is eviscerating him for apparently skipping out on his group during the event and forcing Daehyun - the skinny blond one - to do the wrestling event in his stead. The normal comments only amplify, and there's a fresh pair of scandals making the rounds, amplifying the hate to something sickening.

How can Jaewon stand this?

By the time Jun scrolls into the fifth page of comments calling Jaewon a talentless hack, he shuts off his phone, leaning back to rest his head against the glass. 

People are horrible.

His father was horrible, the people who spit on him for being homeless are horrible, and the people who call Jaewon all these things are horrible.

Especially the death wishes.

God, Jun hopes he doesn't see those. 

He scrolls over to his conversation with Jaewon, tapping on the message box and staring at the blank box for a moment.

What can he say?

Jaewon doesn't want him to know he's Wyld, and looking at this, he can see why.

Is there anything he can say without revealing that?

 _"You didn't die, right?"_ he types, hitting send before he can doubt himself.

He waits for a while, eyelids drooping, and before he can move to a better place, he falls asleep on the bench, head resting on the glass and breathing soft.

_Jaewon:_

_Yeah!!!_

_Thanks for asking :D_

_I'm fine_

_Got back to the dorms safe!!!_

_[Photo Attachment]_

_I hope you're safe too :DD_

* * *

The next time Jun sees Jaewon, he looks even worse.

He's hiding it - he always it - but Jun knows how Jaewon looks when he's upset, and knows even more how to tell when someone's hiding something.

Jaewon grips the cup of coffee like a lifeline, expression empty as he stares into its dark depths. It's almost ten - so empty as usual - and Jaewon blinks as Jun takes a seat across from him, eyes wide as Jun sips something from a flask.

"Is that-"

"Water," Jun replies, gaze drifting to outside. 

"Ah... I'm glad you're staying hydrated!"

"Hm."

"Where are you staying?"

"Everywhere," Jun vaguely replies, gaze drifting to the streetlights outside. "Tonight I have somewhere to be."

"Ah... where?"

"I work at a tattoo parlor."

"Really?"

Jaewon stars at the ink swirling over Jun's arms, and he nods, gesturing to his arm.

"I did my left arm. A friend did my right."

"Oh!"

Jaewon leans over as if to touch it, and Jun grabs his wrist in warning.

"Ah..."

They stare at each other for a moment, and Jun slowly lets go of Jaewon's hand, lips pursing into a thin line. 

"You can touch it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Jaewon brushes his fingers over the swirls painting Jun's arms, over the abstract images of a bitter reality, and his fingers still on a raised white line, flowers woven through it in a macabre attempt to turn the scar into something beautiful.

"What...?"

"Got hurt," Jun simply replies, and Jaewon stares at him, eyes _sad sad sad_ at the obvious concealing of information, and _isn't that hypocritical_? Jun thinks. 

_Isn't it hypocritical that Jaewon would be upset over deflection and lying when he himself trades in it?_

"You ever want a tattoo?"

"No," Jaewon murmurs, fingers brushing over the dark swirls. "Never considered it."

"Mm."

When Jaewon leaves that day, he looks a little better, though Jun isn't sure if that's because of him - or even if it's _real_.

He likes to imagine it is.

* * *

**_stan minsoo for clear skin:_ **

why wyld shouldn't be in MAYHEM: a thread

(1/?)

first off, he's only in MAYHEM because he's a pretty face and the CEO thought they needed more visuals (idk why, there's a whole dongho right there) 

(2/?)

he doesn't have any important roles in MAYHEM other than to be a pretty face, and he's not a good vocal or rapper or dancer

(3/?)

so he's really holding the group back and taking up a spot another better trainee could've gotten

(4/?)

secondly, the rest of the group seems to hate him

(5/?)

it's most obvious with dongho, but the rest of the group really doesn't talk to him (except dae, but he is angel and babie and thus a biased party)

(6/?)

i mean, can you really blame them??? he's so rude and pretentious smh

(7/?)

but there must be SOME reason the rest of MAYHEM dislikes him bc as said earlier, dae is babie and even he seems awkward around him

(8/?)

and that's messing up the rest of the group's vibe if yknow what i mean

(9/?)

thirdly, the SCANDALS

(10/?)

the scandals give all of MAYHEM a bad name and make our favs look just as bad as him;;;

(11/?)

i'm sorry bby daehyun you don't deserve this

(12/?)

but now everyone knows MAYHEM as That Group With Wyld instead of knowing them as the amazing boys they are and it's SAD

(13/?)

so if wyld was never in the group MAYHEM would be doing a lot better thank you for coming to my ted talk

(14/14)

_Liked by: 95_Wyld, step_on_me_dmin, and 1,045 others..._

* * *

The next time Jun sees Jaewon, it's raining.

He's closing up, a jacket Nari loaned him over his arms, when he catches sight of a head of red hair trudging down the street.

And _wow_ , Jaewon looks like hell.

His hair is plastered to his face, and his expression is devoid of all life or energy as he stares down at his phone screen, scrolling through something Jun can't see.

He's going to catch a cold if he stays out here.

"Yah, Jaewon-ah!"

He's not sure _why_ he does it - _don't get attached, he learned that lesson the hard way_ \- but Jaewon raises his head, dull eyes flickering with some semblance of life as his lips stretch into a phony grin.

"Hey!"

He jogs across the street, rivulets dripping from his sleeves as he moves, and Jun eyes him distrustfully, reaching over to pat his head.

"...where's your umbrella?"

"Don't have one," Jaewon grins, a little lop-sided, a lot fake. "I forgot it at the studio."

That's a lie.

"...which way do you live?"

"Wha- you can't walk me home!"

Jaewon looks like he thinks the worst thing he could ever do would be to slightly inconvenience Jun, and Jun opts to avoid telling him that he doesn't have anywhere to be tonight.

"Of course I can. The hag is planning a sale - 's why she bribed me with the jacket - and as much as I hate this place, it does bring in money. Unfortunately, we actually need _workers_ to do sales, and you're not a totally shit barista, so consider it an investment."

"Oh..." Jaewon trails off, lips curling into a small but bewildered grin. "O-Okay. I live that way."

He points in the general direction of Jun's tattoo parlor, and Jun nods, pulling out the jacket and unfolding it. "Great. That's the same way as my second job. Get under."

Jaewon stares at him, thrown, and Jun spreads the jacket over their heads, gesturing for Jaewon to grab the other side. "I'll lend it to you when we get to the parlor," Jun states, "and you can give it back when you come to help with the sale."

"Ah... okay..."

They spend most of the walk in silence, the empty air filled with the roar of the wind, and the jacket doesn't do much to protect them from the rain, but it's better than nothing.

At least, it is for Jun - who's grown accustomed to weather like this.

Jaewon isn't used to it, and it's painfully clear.

He shivers every time the wind blows, his t-shirt plastered to his back and jeans five shades darker and dripping into his shoes, and were this a k-drama, Jun would pull him into his side and drape the jacket over his shoulders.

But this _isn't_ a k-drama, and Jun is inherently selfish, so he does nothing.

Jaewon balks when they arrive at the tattoo parlor, taking in the cracked brick and spray-paint covering the wall, and Jun arches a brow, pulling the jacket off his head and passing it to Jaewon.

"Ah... I can't take this-"

"Take it," Jun states, gesturing to the neon pink monstrosity. "You're coming by in a few days anyway, right? You can give it back to me then."

Jaewon stares at the building for a moment, worry flashing in his eyes as he slowly pulls it on, and Jun nods, pushing him away from the store. 

"Get out of here, kid."

"Stay safe!" Jaewon calls, sprinting towards the street, and Jun sighs, watching the speck of neon pink disappear into the haze.

Only then does he head inside the store, a sigh escaping his lips.

There's always work for him, after all.

* * *

Jaewon doesn't come by for the sale, and Jun knows why.

Three days after their meeting in the rain, MAYHEM has a comeback, and as their popularity explodes, Jaewon's supporters and detractors grow in equal measure.

Jun just wishes it wasn't so overtly one-sided.

For every one supporter, Jaewon has ten people waiting to tear him down. For every one person who thinks Jaewon's doing a good job, working hard, trying his best, there are ten who think he's an absolute failure with no reason to live.

Jun hopes Jaewon doesn't see some of the things they say.

He _must_ , though, since Jun can see him wither away on camera.

It's _stunning_ , how he's the only one to notice it - the only one of the thousands and thousands of eyes watching Jaewon's every movement - but he's losing weight, dark circles making a permanent home beneath his eyes. He flinches more, avoids physical contact like the plague, and when he smiles, it's _so so brittle_ that Jun knows it's only the facade of Wyld that's keeping it from being noticed.

Wyld has brittle smiles.

Jaewon doesn't. 

And yet, Jun notices all of this and doesn't say a thing. 

He could say something - _should_ say something - but he's not one to interfere, not one to give comfort, not one to be an emotional crutch when he himself has more issues than he can count.

He's managing.

More or less, that is.

What _really_ rankles, though, is the fact that not only do the _fans_ miss Jaewon's slow descent into depression (because there really is no other word for it) but his _members_ do, too.

In fact, they're part of the problem.

Two of them - D.Min and Minsoo - look at him with disdain, treating him like he's gum on the bottom of their shoe. The blond one, Daehyun, is marginally nicer, but still nothing close to what Jaewon deserves.

They're not a team, and it's painfully obvious to anyone who bothers to look. 

Jun observes this - observes everything everyone says and does - and doesn't do a thing about it.

And this, in the end, is his greatest mistake.

* * *

The next time Jun sees Jaewon, it's somewhere completely unexpected.

He's roaming around, taking in the city before heading home, when he catches sight of a head of red hair coming out of a convenience store.

"Jaewon-ah?"

Jaewon turns - and it _is_ him - and Jun's gaze lands on the oversized hoodie, on the dark circles under his eyes, on the way his hands shake like he's instants from collapsing - and immediately decides he's not letting the kid walk home alone.

Not out this late.

"Oh," Jaewon mumbles, and Jun watches as he tries to prop up a smile, the final result looking so realistic he can almost believe it. "It's great to see you!"

"What's in the bag?"

"Um, just... milk 'n stuff..."

Jun snags the bag, staring into its contents before withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. "You smoke?"

"Not really," Jaewon mumbles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Just... just sometimes."

Jun opens the box and pulls out a cigarette, sticking out his hand in a silent request for a lighter. It takes Jaewon a moment to realize it, but once he does, he roots through his pockets before raising his head, distrust flashing on his lips.

"Should I be giving you this?"

"Nah," Jun easily replies, "but you're gonna give it to me anyways."

"'kay..."

Jaewon hands over his lighter - bear-patterned - without further protest, and Jun stares at him, taking in the dullness in his eyes and the way his hands occasionally loosen on the handles of the bags.

He's not doing okay.

Jun lights the end of his cigarette before chucking the lighter and box back into the bag, taking a long drag from the death-stick. He should confiscate the cigarettes, he knows - but it's a vice in a way.

Give them what they want, and they'll be happy.

Jun isn't enough of a meddler to push further.

"Where's your apartment, kid?" he asks, and Jaewon squints, pointing at an apartment building at the end of the block with a sheepish grin.

"You don't have to-"

"You're gonna get jumped and die if I leave you," Jun states, folding his arms over his chest. "So I won't."

"...'kay."

When Jun delivers Jaewon to his dorm, there's no-one there, and for a moment, Jun honestly considers dragging Jaewon to the tattoo parlor - if nothing else, so he can make sure he's safe.

But Jaewon steps inside with a wispy smile and bags dangling from his stick-thin arms, and as he says goodnight, Jun can't help but feel like he might never see him again.

* * *

Jaewon's descent is meteoric - in the sense that it's eye-catching and self-destructive.

It's impossible to miss.

First, an image comes out of him smoking outside the company building, which divides MAYHEM's already-divided fanbase. Former supporters are swayed to the opposition, and the opposition gains new ammunition to say Jaewon doesn't care about MAYHEM.

The very next day, Jaewon's seen at a club with some woman with far too much makeup, and the internet howls.

It's not even ambiguous like all the others. Jaewon's _very clearly_ an active participant here, and for some reason, the sight makes Jun sick to his stomach.

It's like watching someone spill blood on a flower.

A petition pops up to kick Jaewon out of MAYHEM, and it gets thousands of signatures in under a day.

Jun sends Jaewon a few texts - _Are you okay? I saw the news_ \- opting to fuck secrecy entirely in hopes of determining _whether or not he's okay_.

His texts go unanswered. 

The next day, images surface of Jaewon with a bruised cheek and black eye. 

Nobody wonders why.

(some sick people say he deserved it.)

 _"Please respond,"_ Jun doesn't say, and _isn't that hypocritical_ , him refusing to say the one thing he so desperately wanted to hear. _"_ _I'm worried about you."_

 _"You owe me a jacket,"_ he says instead, and tries to ignore the way memory claws at his throat.

Jaewon doesn't reply.

* * *

In truth, Jun's afraid because Jaewon reminds him of himself.

He's afraid because when he looks at Jaewon, he sees that eight-year-old kid in the mirror, eyes wide and desperate and _begging_ to know why his parents don't love him, _begging_ to know why his parents punch and kick and scream when the teachers say parents are supposed to hug and laugh and love, _begging_ to know _why_ and eventually coming to the conclusion that it's their fault.

That's the distinction, then.

If he accepted it was his fault, he'd have fallen into an endless spiral of self-loathing, probably culminating in a swan-dive off a bridge.

But by accepting it's _their_ fault, he lets them break him down and reforges himself into a blade, wicked-sharp and _so, so angry_. 

He's afraid because he can see Jaewon standing at this precipice, can see him edging down the spiral, can _see him_ making the mistake he so nearly made, and he's too selfish to stop it.

That's the other thing Jaewon reminds him of - the kids on the streets.

All the people he's met, all the people who were kind to him and starved or bled out or froze in one alleyway or another- that feels like Jaewon.

Caring only leads to hurt. This he knows well.

So he _doesn't_. He _doesn't_ text Jaewon again, _doesn't_ say everything he wants to say, because that turns into caring, and Jun _cannot care_. 

He just watches - one of thousands and thousands of eyes - and pretends like there's nothing he can do to fix this.

He pretends like he's not in the exact same role of the teachers and friends and parents he hoped would help him, pretends like he's not making the same mistake they're making, pretends like he couldn't make things better just by opening himself up and exposing a bit of weakness, because if he does, Jaewon could stab him in the heart.

So he won't.

(he's fucked either way - this, he knows.

but if he keeps his distance, jaewon's eventual contact with the ground will hurt less.)

* * *

The last time he sees Jaewon, he doesn't actually see him.

He comes to open up and sees a paper bag in front of the door, tied with a ribbon and labeled, simply, _"Jun."_

He swallows, and his mouth tastes like ash.

He takes it inside, pulling out his phone, and there's a series of notifications he expected, but surprise him nonetheless.

_Jaewon, 3:46 am:_

_I'm sorry, Jun-ah._

_I left your raincoat at the door._

_Thanks for everything._

**_BREAKING: MAYHEM's WYLD Found Dead In Rumored Suicide..._ **

He puts his phone down and stares at his hands before taking a sip of his coffee, the dark liquid filling his mouth.

It tastes like nothing.

It's not the first time someone's died like this - he's seen most of the bodies - but this is different.

He should've done something.

He _could've_ done something.

His throat aches, and he stares at the table, eyes widening when a drop of water lands on its surface. 

He's crying.

Oh.

He taps out a quick message, aware he has no right to feel like this - to feel _regret_ when he could've done everything different - and hits send, knowing it'll never reach its recipient.

_You shouldn't smoke so much, Jaewon-ah._

He slams his phone on the table, eyes blurring, and when he finally lets himself cry, it's completely silent.

 _"So many people love you,"_ he didn't say. _"Thousands and thousands of eyes watch you to see what they should do, look to you for strength, look to you for hope, so please don't."_

It's too little too late, and he knows it. 

**Author's Note:**

> fic title from burned out by dodie
> 
> i recommend - and if anyone else wants to use it for a lit fic, please do lmao
> 
> the title was actually almost "words only get through if they're sharp" or "oh how fitting for one so fake" so consider those the alternates
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/i_was_human_) | [lit fic discord!](https://discord.gg/CNunB74)


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